


Just You Wait

by curly_hair, ok_mcmxcv



Category: Haikyuu!!, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hamilton Fusion, Inspired by Hamilton, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25249492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curly_hair/pseuds/curly_hair, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ok_mcmxcv/pseuds/ok_mcmxcv
Summary: the hamilton au literally no one asked for...-“What’s your name, young man?” he asks.“Sugawara Koushi.”
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Undisclosed Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. alexander hamilton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, and welcome to our Hamilton au! This is not historically accurate, we are going off of the songs and a few select facts. Characters may seem a bit OOC at times to fit better with their Hamilton counterparts. We will be including Congratulations, and each song will be its own chapter, which means the length of these chapters will vary. (We don't own Haikyuu or Hamilton, all credits for the basic storyline goes to the amazing Lin-Manuel Miranda. Enjoy the fic!
> 
> Characters and their counterparts:  
> Aaron Burr- Kageyama Tobio  
> Alexander Hamilton- Sugawara Koushi  
> Eliza Schuyler- Sawamura Daichi  
> Theodosia- Hinata Shouyou  
> Angelica Schuyler- Oikawa Tooru  
> Peggy Schuyler- Kozume Kenma  
> Maria Reynolds- Kuroo Tetsurou  
> Thomas Jefferson- Tsukishima Kei  
> Marquis de Lafayette- Nishinoya Yuu  
> Hercules Mulligan- Iwaizumi Hajime  
> John Laurens- Azumane Asahi  
> George Washington- Ukai Keishin  
> James Madison- Yamaguchi Tadashi  
> Charles Lee- Kindaichi Yuutarou  
> Doctor- Ennoshita Chikara  
> Phillip Schuyler-Yaku Morisuke  
> Theodosia II- Yachi Hitoka  
> King George- Daishou Suguru  
> George Eacker- Tanaka Ryuunosuke  
> James Reynolds- Bokuto Koutarou  
> Samuel Seabury- Ushijima Wakatoshi

I let out a deep exhale as the ship rocks left and right. The waves begin to slow down, signalling the proximity of the land. The wind whips my silvery hair as I take in the surrounding people on the boat, looking towards the city of New York with hope in their eyes. I fight the urge to scoff. Did they think the colonies would be their safe haven? Revolution is inevitable. Revolution means war. Bloodshed. Death. But, whatever awaits me is New York is better than the island. Besides, I know all too well that there are punishments worse than death.

_Honestly, I’m not sure where my obsession with the quill began. Ever since I was a child, it seems, I wrote. From a fascinated toddler to a teenager riddled with trauma, the quill was the only constant in my life. When the money finally ran out and my father left, I wrote. When my island was ravaged with disease, I wrote. When my mom died, I wrote. I wrote my way out. Through trauma, through depression, the pen and paper were always there to console me._

_After my mother passed, I moved across the island to live with my cousin who had plunged deeper into depression than I could imagine. He didn’t have an outlet. He didn’t have the sound of the quill hitting the paper or hitting the ink. He didn’t have anywhere to channel his emotions. The memory of his lifeless body hanging from the ceiling still haunts me. It was then I realized writing truly saved my life. I got a glimpse of the future without the young child that picked up a quill. The thought brought out a new side of me._

_A voice in my head started telling me to be bold. No person of great renown gained their status from being quiet and submissive. I walked into the corner I had converted into a study and read my ramblings about my sadness and pain. All of his best writings seemed to have one thing in common; pain. My light brown eyes widened as the quill began to move._

_I published my first refrain, filled with all of the anguish and trauma I have endured. How much I cared for my cousin, and when he gave up, I felt as though I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough for my father to stay. I wasn’t good enough to keep my cousin alive. Venting into paper felt good, as I was always the person people vented to, and never the person ranting. The quill continued to move as emotions painted the yellowing paper._

_My writing became a talking point across the island after I published my first few papers, but the hunger inside of me wasn’t sated. There seemed to be a hole in my heart, begging for people to fill it. But, I had no one. Even though I earned some money from money writing, the illiteracy of most people on the island made sure I never had enough money to feed myself. I began working for my mother’s landlord on the sugarcane fields. The work was arduous, and left me with little pay. My heart still ached for something to be a part of, something to make sure people would remember my name._

_I don’t remember exactly when the rumors of revolution reached my island. Many people just shrugged, as the news didn’t mean much to them. But when the whispers made their way around the fields to my ears, I did the exact opposite. This was my opportunity. My chance to create a legacy, my chance to make people remember my name long after I’m gone. If I wanted to do more with my life than waste away from starvation, this was my shot. The only issue was money. If only someone could pay for my education… wait. The owners of the rum distillery always loved my writing. My mom also had a few connections there. With my pounding heart, I raced toward the distillery to talk with the owners. Was this really happening?_

_The happiest I have ever been was when I had been accepted into King’s College. It seemed my entire life had been building up to this moment. I left my job in the fields to work in the distillery to pay for my education. I stole a few books from the local library and hopped on the first boat to the colonies I could take. The colonies. My smile grew, and I repeated the sentence over and over again. I’m going to join the revolution. Stories of people like Kageyama Tobio, who was able to fight in the war after only taking two years of college classes fueled my fire. If the colonies won the war, I would get to help shape a brand new nation. Me. An orphan._

_Death was no longer a wish. It became a deadline. I need more time. I will never have enough time. For the ones I love, to create a legacy._

I jumped at the feeling of the boat moving into the dock. The excited bustling of the passengers filing off the boat and into their new lives filled me with pride as I walked in the direction of King’s college. This was the start of a new life for me. What was it that people always said? Oh! In New York you can be a new man. I am no longer a nobody. There’s a million things I haven’t done, like fighting in the war or creating brand new laws for an equally new nation. 

_Just you wait._

I arrive at the college, taking in the beauty of the campus. The students all seemed to be minding their own business. Maybe my first assignment could be a piece of poetry about this scene. People begin to notice me staring, and then notice my lack of anything scholarly and ripped clothes. I didn’t exactly realize the healthiness of some people in the city. I see a group of men leaning on a wall, dressed in clothing I could only dream of wearing. They seem to just be watching the students and admiring the landscaping of the campus. What was anyone dressed like that doing in the city? The one in the middle, dressed in a pink suit jacket, is staring at me. He whispers something to the man dressed in blue and… they’re talking about me. 

_Just you wait._

As I push open the large double doors and enter the college, someone who looks like an advisor stops me.

“What’s your name, young man?” he asks.

“Sugawara Koushi.”


	2. aaron burr, sir

**_Kageyama Tobio_ **

A bitter gust of wind encourages me to seek shelter as I hurry down a busy New York street. I should have taken a longer route to avoid the influx of students finished with their studies. They flood my path, but there’s no going back now. _ I hate crowds. Who knew you could feel so alone while surrounded by so many people.  _ I shove my hands into the pockets of my coat and urge my feet to go as fast as possible without openly jogging, weaving in and out of the mass of people. 

I finally spot a quiet side street, and step out from the masses.  _ Phew. _ I slow my pace to an amble, my gaze wandering before settling on the ground in front of me. My eyes become unfocused, not really seeing the cobblestone street. My senses are overtaken over by thoughts, and I am finally able to breathe. 

_ Yesterday was Sally’s birthday. I should have written her a letter, something at least to show that I love her. It wouldn’t have been very hard, I’ve written her letters so many times. So why did I stop? She’s my sister for god’s sake! Ever since I’d come back from Quebec, it was just so much  _ harder _. Everything was harder. Waking up, forcing myself to eat, just living in general. I’d even been assigned to George Washington’s staff! Nothing means anything anymore. How could I ever make a difference in the rebellion to come? I’d be better off doing nothing than risk destroying my parents’ legacy. It’s all I have left. Some say I have everything. I know I am so much better off than many, and yet I feel I have nothing. Why do I have nothing? _

“Sir!” 

_ I’m delusional… I need to stop feeling sorry for myself! I’m alive! Isn’t that enough? _

  
  


_ Isn’t it? _

“Pardon me!”

My thoughts scatter as my senses return. I stop walking and just stand in the middle of the street, embracing the bite of the wind.  _ You and your foolish self-pity. _

“Sir!” 

I register a faint sense of surprise at the sound of a male voice calling out from behind me. I turn around to see a young man running towards me, out of breath. He’s holding up a hand, trying to wave me down. When he sees me turn he smiles, and soon reaches where I stand. 

`

“Pardon me... sir, but... do you happen to… to be Kageyama Tobio?” He’s hopelessly out of breath, pausing every few words to gasp for air. I notice his silver hair is plastered to his forehead.  _ How long has he been following me? _

“That depends… who are you?” Suspicion clouds my brain. _ What would a young man, likely a student by the look of him, want to do with me? What would he want to do w-- oh. Of course… it’s only ever one thing,  _ “If you’re going to try and convince me to tell you about… about Quebec, an interview for some assignment, then I’m not talking. You students never stop trying, but my answer will always be no,” I look down at my scuffed-up boots, allowing a frown to cross over my face. _ My resting expression…  _

“No, sir, that’s not why I’m asking. My name is Sugawara Koushi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you for a few blocks! You walk very quickly, sir!”  _ He seems… awestruck… for lack of a better word. _

“Should I be getting nervous?” I allow myself to examine the boy more closely, flashing one of my trademark smiles to make myself appear to be amused by ‘Sugawara Koushi’ rather than suspicious of him. He chuckles lightly, his laughter like little bells tinkling _. It always works, doesn’t it? You’ve become an expert on keeping your emotions hidden from the outside world, Tobio. _

“I’m a student at King’s College… although, you seem to have already known that!”

“Yes, you do radiate ‘student’. I dare say you most likely have a knack for writing, too, judging by the numerous ink stains on your hands…”

“You’re very good at reading people, sir!” Sugawara grins, scratching the back of his neck, “I heard about you in Princeton! I was hoping to get some accelerated coursework. You see, I kind of became a little… ill-humored… while talking to a friend of yours. I might’ve punched him. I don’t know, it was the heat of the moment, sir! He was in charge of the financials…”

“You… you punched the bursar?” I’m overcome with shock that this innocent-looking young man had the heart to  _ punch someone _ . Over accelerated studies, no less.  _ What have I gotten myself into? _

“Well, I mean, yes. I—I wanted to be like you! Graduate in two years, then join the revolution,” Sugawara has a determined look on his face, and I realize that you  _ should not _ mess with this man, he’s got hunger in his eyes. I remember feeling that very hunger years ago, trying to prove myself by graduating as quickly as possible. I don’t have that desire for greatness anymore. “He looked at me with disgust! Like I was being stupid, and I assure you sir, I am by no means stupid. So, how did  _ you _ do it? Graduate so quickly?”

“It…” I pause. _How did I graduate so quickly? I threw myself into the coursework. It was my only escape, a way to channel my thoughts while honoring my parents’ legacy. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, to show that I was my parents’ son. My parents’ legacy…_ _it always comes back to the legacy._ “It was my parents’ dying wish.”

“You’re an orphan, too! I’m an orphan! Don’t you wish that the war would start already, so we can finally prove ourselves?” 

_ Do I want freedom? Of course, I do. But do I want war?  _

_ Stiff bodies, blue and purple from the cold. _

_ The strong scents of blood, vomit, leather, and gunpowder acrid, burning my nose. _

_ Moans and cries of pain and anguish. _

My breathing starts to quicken, and I recognize that a flashback will occur if I don’t get ahold of myself. 

_ One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. _

_ Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix.  _

_ Acht, drei, ein, fünf, neun, sechs, sieben, vier, zehn, zwei.  _

The numbers give me something to focus on, something other than the feeling of dread in my stomach and the sounds of gunfire playing in the back of my head.

_ No, no, I do not want war. But we all know war is inevitable.  _

  
  
  


_ Death is inevitable. _

I see a tavern down the block, “Can I buy you a beer?” The cold is starting to get to me, bringing the flashbacks with it. 

“That’d be great!”

The tavern is warm and my beer burns the back of my throat. The atmosphere is pleasant. For the most part, at least. “Hey, while we’re here, let me give you some advice, free of charge.” I scowl at the table to the left of where we’re seated, words of encouragement to ‘ _ just push through _ the obstacles and concentrate with all of your will on your studies’ die on my lips. It's  _ those _ fools. They spend all day running their mouths.  _ Talk less. _

I let my gaze wander back to the man seated beside me at the bar. He looks taken aback.  _ I said those last words aloud, didn’t I?  _ “ _ Excuse _ me?” Sugawara sounds offended. I stare down into the depths of my beer, panicking.

_ He’s turned pale, oh no, how do I salvage this? _ “Uh… smile more,”  _ He’s not speaking, I messed this up, like I mess everything up…  _

I venture a glance at Sugawara.  _ He’s not looking at me, he’s not— he’s laughing?  _ “You got me with that one, sir! But are you  _ serious _ ?”

“Only partially,” A loud laugh draws my gaze back towards the rowdy table to our left. _ People I would like to see the least. Well, not quite the least, but high up on the list of people who I despise most.  _

“Don’t let others know what you’re against or what you’re for…”  _ The first and only rule of my world. Show the people your beliefs and secrets and they will tear you apart and abandon you. It’s better this way, to keep your thoughts to yourself, where no one can find them. No one can use your thoughts against you if they don’t really  _ know _ you.  _

_ Please don’t turn out like all the other people in my life. I just want someone to stay with me. Don’t leave me, Sugawara. I’ve known you for what, two hours at the top? I just know you’re going to change my life, and I can’t tell if it’ll be for better or worse. _

_ I can’t take another heartbreak. _

“You’re serious?”

“I mean, you want to get ahead?”

“Well, of course, sir. Yes,”

“You know, fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.”  _ Don’t be rash, Sugawara.  _ The other table notices me staring at them.  _ Well, well, here we go…  _

“Boys, what time is it?”  _ Azumane Asahi. A brave coward. With his friends he has guts, but by himself he’s afraid of  _ everything.  _ And of course, the alcohol doesn’t hurt. Drunk cockiness.  _

_ I detest it. _

“SHOWTIME!”  _ Nishinoya Yuu and Iwaizumi Hajime, only the most opinionated and cocky bastards you’ll ever meet. I absolutely  _ hate  _ them. _

“Speak of the devil…” With my remark, Sugawara turns to see three drunken men strolling towards our table. He looks confused and quite a bit worried, like he expects a fight to break out in front of him.

“Do you… know them, sir?”

“Something like that,” I glance at Sugawara one last time before angling my body towards the imbeciles standing before me, “What do you want?”

“Well, if it isn’t Kageyama Tobio!!” Iwaizumi hangs his arm over Nishinoya’s shoulder, “The prodigy graces us with his presence!”

“ _ Who are they, sir _ ?” Sugawara tries to whisper, but was evidently too loud, as the group of idiots start monologuing about their life stories. I tune them out as I finish my drink.  _ What did I ever do to deserve this…  _

“... those redcoats won’t know what hit them!” Nishinoya finishes with a wink, and Sugawara looks astonished.  _ Well, shit, they’ve got him.  _ I sigh, and Iwaizumi stares at me with daggers in his eyes. _ If looks could kill, I would’ve been dead long ago. _

In the blink of a drunken eye, the focus is back on me. “Care to share some knowledge with us commoners, King? Do you have  _ any  _ beliefs?”  _ King. Haven’t heard that one for a while.  _ Iwaizumi is getting gradually closer to my face, and Nishinoya is hopping all around like some kid on his birthday. Asahi just stood behind Nishinoya, watching Sugawara with a strange look on his face.

“Anyone can sit around and get drunk. Have a good time spitting your witless remarks, I’m getting another drink.” I glance at Sugawara, and take a few steps to the bar.

  
  


“If you stand for nothing, sir, what will you fall for?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, thanks so much for reading this chapter!, you're the best!
> 
> curly: i still can't believe i've written over 1000 words of fanfiction in my lifetime!!  
> ok: honestly, same :)
> 
> have a great day/night, amazing person!


	3. my shot

**Sugwara Koushi**

On the island, people who don’t voice their beliefs are washed away like the sand during high tide. I’ve met people who are meant to be the sheep herded by the beliefs of others, but I’ve never met someone who doesn’t seem to have any beliefs at all. I step out of my genuine confusion to see four shocked faces. The silence between us is almost tangible. What did I do? The rest of the bar is clearly loud, but I can only hear the lack of noise between us. Think Koushi! Think! What did I do…

Oh.

That was an insult. I can feel the blood draining from my face. Wow, way to make everyone hate you. Kageyama still stares at him, shocked. Kageyama inspired me to take a chance, to be here, and follow his dreams. I… just shamed my mentor. As I turn around to get enough drinks to not remember this exchange in the morning, I see Asahi’s smile out of the corner of my eye. Kageyama still looks unbelievably stiff, he shouldn’t be taking words from a student that far. Asahi’s small smile does not do wonders for the unbelievable dread I feel, but drunken laughter from Nishinoya, Iwaizumi, and Asahi washes away my worries. Kageyama shakes his head violently after appearing to be deep in thought, and walks toward the bar. I slide my shot glass towards Iwaizumi who promptly fills it up. As I touch the rim of the glass to my lips, Nishinoya opens his mouth to speak.

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?” Asahi and Iwaizumi echo, in some sort of drunken chorus.

“Who is this kid? What's he gonna do?” Nishinoya asks Asahi. I smile and down the shot, flinching a bit at the sharpness of the alcohol flooding down his throat. Yeah, it doesn’t take too many of these to get wasted. I set the glass back on the table with excessive force, and slide into the bench opposite Nishinoya, Iwaizumi, and Asahi. 

“I am not throwing away my shot!” I shout, and another full shot glass appears in front of me. Am I losing control over my words already? I shake away the thought and down the second shot once I see the others doing the same. “I probably shouldn’t brag, but man I amaze and astonish. The issue is I have a lot of smarts but no money. I have to yell twice as loud as my opposition to be heard. I’m just trying to reach my goal through my power of speech. I’m only nineteen but my mind is older. I’ve learned to manage my disadvantages, but I still walk hungry. And, and… damn. It’s dark out. Have I introduced myself?” Well, if I wasn’t gone already, I definitely am now. But, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to care. I could get used to this. 

“Slow down kid,” Iwaizumi chides through chuckles. 

“Well, what’s your name then?” Nishinoya asks excitedly, reminding me of an excited puppy. 

“My name is Sugawara Koushi, and I guess it’s nice to meet you all,” I laugh. In a sudden moment of sobriety, I realize the situation. I’m getting drunk, in a random bar, with a bunch of guys I don’t know. Damn. I was never that guy. Always too focused on my studies for parties. What is it about these three that unlocks a new side of me? The next round of shots chase the thoughts out of my head faster than the alcohol going down towards my stomach. Asahi slides his glass back towards Iwaizumi.

“Will I see you fighting in the revolution?” Asahi asks.

“Well, I’m still a student, but I’m hoping to graduate as soon as possible and join the revolution,” the men sitting around the table smile at me, “Don’t be shocked when you see my name in the history books. Eventually, you will see my legacy!” The four of us raise our glasses, meeting in the center of the table.

“To not throwing away our shot!” Asahi yells. This is followed by many hollers from the rest of the table. I’m not even sure which ones are coming from me at this point. Nishinoya slams his glass down and stands up. Despite his large presence, he truly has a short stature. He begins to step onto the bench, and then to the table. Iwaizumi barked out a laugh and slapped Asahi to get his attention off his alcohol and onto Nishinoya’s conquest over the table. Asahi’s loud laugh echoes around the bar and makes some men turn towards our table. 

“I dream of life without a monarchy,” Nishinoya begins, “The unrest in France with lead to ‘onarchy!” Nishinoya looks around to see Iwaizumi attempting to hold in a chuckle. “How do you say it?” he asks.

“It’s pronounced anarchy-” I supply.

“Oh anarchy!” Nishinoya exclaims, clearly excited for the rest of his speech. “When I fight I make the opposition panic,” Noya gestures dramatically for Iwaizumi to fill up the shot glasses, which he does with a simple flick of the wrist. The rest of us stand up on the bench to reach his raised glass. “With my-”

“Shot!” The rest of us chime in. After downing his shot, Iwaizumi smirks and climbs on top of the table, making a large show of pushing Noya off the table and beginning his own introduction. I sit down, happy to listen to the stories of my new friends. Friends. Never really a word I could use before, as I learned the hard way that no one is guaranteed to live long enough for the relationship to have true meaning. If this is what friends are like, I could get used to this. Iwaizumi fills the glasses once again for another round, and I’m starting to feel a bit woozy. 

“I’m a tailor’s apprentice studying some law on the side. I’m joining the revolution because I know it’s my chance to make a name for myself instead of sewing some pants.” We raise our glasses, looking towards Iwaizumi. He smiles, “Have another shot!” I’m almost accustomed to the harsh feeling of the alcohol. I slide my glass back over to Iwaizumi, no longer dreading the burn. Asahi slides over to my side of the table and puts his arm around my shoulders. 

“All this talk about freedom is great, but you know we’ll never be really free until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me,” Asahi brings his arm from left to right, full glass in hand, to illustrate his point. 

“Cheers to that,” I say, and Asahi and I down the next shot. 

With a considerable increase in volume, Asahi continues, “Wait until I have command over the first black battalion!” Iwaizumi, Noya, and I add in some loud whoops of appreciation. Our ruckus causes Kageyama to leave his bar stool and approach our table once again. My drunken companions somehow also see Kageyama approaching from a few feet away. 

“Aww, it’s mister party pooper.”

“Don’t let him ruin our fun Sugawara!” Iwaizumi laughs. I snicker into my (somehow full, once again) glass. 

Kageyama gestures towards the table of older men, now staring at us. “Geniuses,” he begins with a voice full of sarcasm, “lower your voices. I’m with you, but you have to be careful what you say. If you talk, you’re going to get shot!” Kageyama’s expression seems to hold genuine worry, but after Iwaizumi starts laughing, this expression slips away. I’m left to ponder my next move. Maybe if I wasn’t so drunk, I would stay quiet. I’ve known these guys for what, three hours? I’ve always wanted something to be a part of, people to leave an impression on. Silence never leaves a good impression. Maybe, doing the bold thing isn’t a bad move. 

“Kageyama, look at what we have. Nishinoya-san, hard rock like Lancelot,”

“Yeah!” Nishinoya screams, flexing both his biceps.

“Iwaizumi, those pants look hot!” Iwaizumi puts one leg up on the bench and pulls his long coat off his pants to properly show them off. 

“Thanks, Sugawara. I made them myself,” Iwaizumi adds. 

“Asahi, I like you a lot,” I continue, and Kageyama is shaking his head, but his smirk gives him away. “Let’s work together and form a plan to get our names in the books. What are the odds that the gods put us all in one spot, a bunch of revolutionary abolitionists?” I slam my empty shot glass on the table and climb on top of it. “GIVE ME A POSITION SHOW ME WHERE THE AMMUNITION IS!” I pump my fist and look down at my friends, but out of the corner of my eye, I see the staring faces of everyone else in the bar. 

Shit. I’ve embarrassed myself twice tonight. New record, huh?

“Oh, am I talking too loud?” I glance nervously around the bar, “Sometimes I get overexcited, say a bit too much. I’ve never had a group of friends before. I want to make you proud.” 

“Let’s get this guy in front of a crowd!” Asahi shouts, effectively breaking the building tension. I raise my glass in a toast. 

“To the revolution!” I receive a cacophony of shouts in response, but I don't mind. We have people backing the cause, people willing to fight. We could win our freedom. My dreams could actually come true. 

“When are these colonies going to rise up?” Nishinoya asks the crowd. 

“Rise up!” A man in the crowd echoes, raising his beer mug. The yelling dissolves around me, leaving me with my thoughts. I imagine my death constantly. To this day, if I see death coming, I wonder if I would run. When is my time going to end? Twenty minutes? Twenty years? I never thought I’d live past twenty. In the Caribbean, some barely make it until their teens. It’s a race against the clock, every day must be potent. I have to make this moment last. 

Scratch that.

This is not a moment. It’s the movement. People will oppose us, but I have faith in our ability to stand our ground. We will claim this land as our own, just like Moses in the Bible. But, what if we win? Will my children have freedom? Or will this war become a never ending battle where the blood spilt tints the ocean more than the tea? The action in the street is exciting, but I fear we are moving too quickly. Between all the fighting, someone ought to be writing. Is that where I fit into the equation? I need to know that my slot in history is secured. After all, I didn't survive this long by being selfless. I’ve always wanted to fight, but money has fascinated me just as much as the battlefield. Once we win the war, someone has to handle the financial situation. Is that my place? What’s the state of our nation? I’m breaking past every barrier, smashing every expectation, waiting for my chance in the spotlight. For the first time, I’m thinking past tomorrow. 

I’m brought back to reality with a steady chant of rise up from the rest of the patrons in the bar. Kageyama is standing off to the side, cautiously eyeing Iwaizumi, Nishinoya, and Asahi. I don’t understand him. What is he waiting for?

“We’re gonna rise up!” Nishinoya yells.

“Rise up!”

“Time to take a shot!” Iwaizumi screams.

“Rise up!”

“It’s time to take a shot!” Asahi joins in.

“Rise up!”

“Rise up!”

I look down at my feet, still firmly planted on top of the table. I raise my glass. “I am not throwing away my shot!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (curly) just wanted to let you know that this scene was largely inspired by the “I’ve Got a Dream” number in tangled. who knew I could jump from hamilton and haikyuu to a disney princess movie? once again proving that anything is possible in fanfiction…  
> p.s. let’s pretend iwa, noya, and asahi introduced themselves in the last chapter. I realized this once i was three pages in and i’m too lazy to change it ahaha  
> i’m also getting very tired of my writing playlist. any recommendations? thanks again for reading, see you next week! :)


	4. the story of tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter for you guys this time  
> me, after listening to the story of tonight, “what the heck am i supposed to do with this?!”  
> also, i’m giving suga a harem. why not? #multishipping woot woot!

**Azumane Asahi**

So much can happen in a short amount of time. But even as the scenery changes, people tend to stay the same. I can always count on my friends as the constants during this time. It seems the threat of war does nothing to lower their resolve. Sugawara looks ready to start the war himself based on the faces he shoots at Loyalists in the streets.. He is completely reckless, and has no respect for himself. That… worries me. Sugawara goes as far as to engage in battles of wits with people on the street who oppose the revolution. His insults seem to leave deeper scars than bullet wounds. No matter how often I tell him to back down, some things never change. 

“Let’s have another round tonight,” Noya says, passing his empty glass towards the bartender. Iwaizumi and Sugawara immediately follow suit. I examine my glass under the dim lighting of the bar. The memories of the last time I participated in round six place themselves behind my eyes. Standing on tables and yelling about the revolution is not something I do often. In fact, Iwaizumi and Nishinoya stopped by my house because they knew how bad my hangover would be. I shiver. Even though this took place a month ago, I don’t seem to have the ability to put the past behind me. 

“What’s wrong?” Sugawara asks. The man is impossibly perceptive. I swallow. “Ah.. I see. Remembering what happened last time?” I’ve been told I wear my emotions on my sleeve. But, I wasn’t aware I was that easy to read. “Personally, I think the glass giant could use some liquid courage.” With that, he grabs the glass and slides it towards the bartender. I turn back to Sugawara, mouth agape. He passes some money to the bartender and winks, a small gesture that never fails to make my cheeks flush with heat. 

“Would you like to give a few more words of wisdom, Sugawara?” Iwaizumi smiles, and we turn on our stools towards Sugawara in time to watch him swallow his shot. He returns the smile and begins.

“I may not live to see our glory,”

“Isn’t that a bit morbid?” I interject, receiving a sharp glare from Sugawara, “You better not die.”

“Oh come on Asahi. I’m trying to be inspirational here,” Sugawara laughs, and I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. I turn to see Sugawara retracting his fist with a smirk. 

“Yeah, just let him have his goddamn moment,” Iwaizumi sighs. I lift my palms up, showing innocence.

“Thank you,” Sugawara dramatically clears his throat, “I will gladly join the fight and hopefully not die because that would not be fun.” Sugawara rolls his eyes at me, but I know his words aren’t true. Sugawara would be just fine dying in battle. Why do I care so much? It’s his life. He can do whatever he wants. Part of me wants to spend all the time in the world with him. 

“But I will gladly join the fight,” Nishinoya echoes. 

“When our children tell our story,” Sugawara says.

Iwaizumi whistles. “Woah there, big shot.”

“Yeah, who wants to have kids with you?” Nishinoya jabs. 

“Ha! Not the point, though I could ask the same question,” Sugawara rests his head on his hand and stares at Iwaizumi and Nishinoya effectively putting the ball back in their court. “I was going to say something nice and sappy, about how they would tell the story of tonight. If you guys keep being assholes I won’t mention you in my autobiography.”

“Woah. So scary!” Nishinoya sticks his tongue out. 

“Asahi,” Sugawara says, bringing me back to reality. I look away from the neatly stacked bottles of whiskey. I’ve never been one to participate in arguments. 

“Yes?”

“You’ve been awfully quiet. Would you like to give a toast for our last round?” I look down at my full glass, leaving me to wonder whether the bartender filled it again or if I just didn’t drink it the first time. 

“Raise a glass to freedom,” I start, “Something the British can never take away. No matter what they tell you.”

“You’re much better at this than me,” Sugawara laughs.

“Raise a glass to the four of us,” I continue.

“Tomorrow there will be more of us,” Iwaizumi adds. 

“Telling the story of tonight~,” Nishinoya sings. Or, tries to. I can hear Sugawara hysterically laughing behind me, and it’s taking all of my self control to not do the same. 

“I need more alcohol for this,” Iwaizumi sighs. With that, the four of us down our shots. Sugawara nearly snorts it out of his nose. 

“Raise a glass to freedom,” Iwaizumi growls, but bears semblance to singing. Sugawara smiles brightly. 

“No matter what they tell you~,” Sugawara joins. His voice is pitched higher than I would expect. But it is still beautiful.

“Showoff,” Nishinoya comments.

“Raise a glass to the four of us,” I sing, earning a loud whoop from Sugawara. 

“Tomorrow there will be more of us!” We sing together, blissfully unaware of the fact we sound like dying animals. 

“Telling the story of tonight,” We finish. The night ends with our arms around each other’s shoulders and our minds blissfully fuzzy from the alcohol. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok is scheduled to write the schuyler sisters chapter but she is going on vacation, so the chapter will most likely not be updated on monday. sorry :/

**Author's Note:**

> (ok) Hey, if you made it this far, thank you!  
> (curly) Your support means a lot to us, comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Come yell at us on tumblr:  
> ok_mcmxcv: ok-mcmxcv  
> curly_hair: curly-writes-things
> 
> We look forward to seeing you next chapter :)


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